Chp. 13: Crisis
October 25, 2049
Oured, Osea
The convoy of black sedans and SUVs pulled up to the gate of Brighthill. Members of the Secret Service's Uniformed Division met them and checked IDs while a pair of Belkan Shepherds sniffed each car for anything suspicious. Once the gates opened, the four vehicles rolled through the gates and then through a garage door hidden next to the central structure. Connor Meynard, Director of the Osean Central Intelligence Agency, stepped out and hurried to an elevator nearby. He pressed a thumb to a screen next to the controls, then the button that would take him to the Third Floor. In a waiting room outside the President's office was the rest of the "Crisis Team" for these kinds of matters. Secretary of State Eve Charney and Secretary of Defense Bob Lyman were comparing notes while Admiral Stephen O'Neil, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, was sharing old sea stories with their aides.
"Madame Secretary, Mister Secretary, Admiral." Meynard said as he approached. Lyman immediately held out a hand.
"Connor, how are ya?" He asked in a gravely Ozarks drawl.
"Alive and well, no doctor's appointments over the next few days. Probably a good sign for a guy my age." He replied as they exchanged firm handshakes.
"Hey, gotta remember the saying: you're only as old as you feel!"
"What if I don't feel anything?"
"...Then you're whatever age you wanna be!"
"Or you're just still healthy enough to stave off the decay for a while longer." Charney added dryly.
"Feh, got too much salt in my joints to know what I actually feel." O'Neil chimed in as he walked up to the group and shook hands with Meynard.
The group entered the chambers of their commander and chief and remained on their feet until a door nearby opened. President Elizabeth McBride entered from her private study and took a seat behind her desk. The others took seats at the sofas and chairs around an oak table with a pot of coffee atop it.
"Good morning everyone, I trust we all know why exactly we're here and all have similar questions as to how Nikula or his pal Gummadi thought their speech might be received any differently." The brunette said as she sat up in her chair.
"That may very well be their intention, Madame President. They know how we'll react, so there's almost no reason for them to be weary." Charney proposed.
"Sticking your hand into a bear trap is still sticking your hand into a bear trap. It seems overnight that Sotoa and Chakari have become the focus of the world. Meynard, what does the situation look like over there through your lense?"
"We're seeing an increase in traffic between Erusea and Sotoa through their embassies. Most concerning is a whole bunch of encrypted transmissions between Erusea's Ministry of Defense, its domestic subsections and their base at New Rovennti."
"Any of it that you've been able to decipher?"
"Bits and pieces, talk of further troop deployments."
McBride leaned forward in her chair.
"Troop deployments to Sotoa?" She asked with audible irritation.
"Yes Ma'am. So far just about everything going over there is related to Erusea's 1st Airborne Corps, which serves as their rapid reaction force. I think it's safe to say they're heading to Sotoa to make a statement...or start a war."
Silence gripped the room for a long minute while Meynard kept his expression as serious as it got. McBride drew in a deep breath and let the Director's words sink in. No, they weren't at war yet, she reminded herself, but this wasn't going to be a purely diplomatic affair.
"Eve, as soon as we're done here I want you to start rallying allies to make as much noise as possible about this. The UN, ISAF, the OVS, everyone. I want to put Nikula, his apologists and his allies on the spot and hold them there." She decided.
"Yes Madam President." Charney nodded.
"So the Eruseans are deploying a corps-sized force to Sotoa. That's what, four full divisions?"
"Yes Ma'am, with support. The Invictus and Farbanti carrier groups have started towards Sotoa as well and a few extra detachments of aircraft have landed at New Rovennti. In roughly three days max, they'll have a sizable force in the country and that assumes they won't deploy even more." O'Neil spoke up.
"What about the Sotoan military?"
"The Sotoan-Chakari border falls under the command of the Sotoan Army's Southwest Command, which incorporates two corp-sized elements."
The Admiral stood up and walked to a screen on the side of the room. He pulled out a sheaf of paper from his briefcase and set it on what looked like a scanner. When the screen came to life, he pulled it away from the wall so the others could see the map he'd downloaded to it.
"Latest intel indicates that currently three divisions from this command are deployed. The 31st Mountain Infantry Division is responsible for patrolling the eastern half of the border where the Kuppuri Mountains twist westward. The 191st Infantry Division watches over the low hills and plains in the west. The last element is the 60th Armored Division, which would bring a significant increase in armor to the front line. Erusea's moves give them even more to work with, namely a huge boost in heliborne assets. All that doesn't even touch on their airpower in the region; Southwestern Air Command boasts no fewer than ten squadrons of combat aircraft. In addition to support craft and helicopters, too."
"Dare I even ask if the Chakaris stand a chance, Admiral?"
"Alone, no. They can hold the Sotoans in the mountainous areas and concentrate their heavier forces in the west, but they're simply far too outnumbered to hold on for long. Unlike the South Pacific war in 2024, we don't have the ground assets in place to respond immediately. The Lenish have two air bases and port facilities on Kharmata, but our nearest land-based facility would be Nahja Air Base in Eastern Isara. Right now, however, we also have a few of our subs monitoring Erusean naval activity in the region."
"There's also the matter of Osean contractors in Chakari, Madame President. If things get hot over there, it could put us in an awkward position." Meynard added.
The entire room was washed in an uncomfortable silence as the matter of Osea's position in world politics reared its ugly head. If they couldn't get the Eruseans to back down, then the only two options were appeasement or war. Neither was pleasant, and both gave Erusea what it wanted in some shape or form. McBride leaned forward in her chair and drew a breath.
"Eve, have the Lenish said anything about this matter?" She asked, trying to get on with matters.
"I reached out to their ambassador shortly after the speech, but he said he wanted to consult with his government to make sure we're all on the same page. I did the same to the Chakari ambassador and he said he's eager to meet with the Osean government." Charney replied, pulling out a few diplomatic cables to hand over to the President.
"Sotoa and Erusea's ambassadors?"
"They simply commented that, quote, "neither country has any wish to commit an act of aggression", end quote, and pointed to their leaders speeches as a representation of their stance."
"So they don't wanna talk. Great...alright then that sort of forces our hand then. At least until we can put them on the aforementioned spot."
"If I may offer up something, Madame President?" Meynard commented.
"I'm listening."
"Gummadi is a nut and a hypocrite, but only realizes it when he's forced to back down. We can force him to back down and if he does, it might force the Eruseans to do the same. If Gummadi prevents them from using his country as a springboard for their aggression."
"In that case; Admiral, your recommendations?"
"I recommend for now that we use a show of force to support Chakari and remind Nikula and his cronies what he faces if he wants to be aggressive. Especially if he thinks it'll be a walk in the park. There is, however, the possibility that this may not sway him. In fact he could turn it around and start crying that we're being big meanies, or something like that."
Her tone got fairly curt.
"I'm aware of the repercussions, but right now we're speaking in a strictly hypothetical manner. I will dispatch these forces ONLY if diplomatic pressure fails, but I'm not getting my hopes up. Admiral, if you'd please."
"I would recommend sending in two or three carrier groups and having one of the Air Force's bomber wings or an expeditionary wing conduct a rapid deployment exercise."
"Who could we deploy the quickest?"
"Icarus is making a port call in Al-Faziz and the Nicholas Andersen and her group are further north off the coast of Shamlak. We could have both those groups on station in roughly 48 hours. We could also have bombers airborne from Clipper, Bullock or Turgidson Air Force Base in two hours tops. However, I would recommend we get them airborne after we have the carrier groups on the way. Both Icarus and Andersen's fighter squadron will be vital in protecting them should the Eruseans or Sotoans decide to get...fresh, with us."
O'Neil gave a lopsided smile when his attempt at humor faltered, then cleared his throat and went back to a more serious demeanor.
"In addition, I'd recommend we at least give II Marine Expeditionary Force a call. Or the 16th Airborne Corps, but I do NOT recommend we deploy them. Not yet, but they should at least be alerted. Again, in case Nikula decides to throw a fit."
"Could we coordinate with the Lenish to ensure a bigger force is present to deter the Eruseans and Sotoans?"
"Yes, but I would recommend we run things parallel to the Lenish, for lack of a better term. Creating any kind of joint command takes time, so the best solution would be to keep them in the loop if they deploy anything. We can change that if the situation warrants it, though."
"Is that our best option, Lyman?"
"Yes. In a perfect world we wouldn't need to do anything more than have the show of force in the same hemisphere, but Nikula and Gummadi are playing hardball."
McBride didn't take very long to consider the matter. She'd need to face congress if this went any further, but for now she was playing within her boundaries. She looked at the map the Admiral had put up for a minute, then back at her team.
"Alright, get the Icarus and her group back out to sea and have the Andersen and her group join them. They'll stay south of Kharmata for the time being, but for now the priority is diplomatic pressure. I want that front and center so we can't feed the assh-our detractors anymore ammo about us warmongering."
She didn't have to say much more; in a way what she did say was to reassure herself. She was only nine months into her presidency, after all...
Hangovers come and hangovers go, but it's the getting them to go that hits the hardest. Jed Walker awoke feeling all kinds of pain and discomfort. His head felt like someone was trying to put a knife through it, he reeked of sweat, booze and vomit, and he'd fallen asleep in such a position that he was sore. All he could let out was a weak groan as he tried to piece together where he was. Everything seemed cloudy, and he couldn't even remember back to before he'd hit his limit. His being in a bed all alone told him that he hadn't gotten wrapped up in some booze-fueled tryst, at least. Even he knew that alcohol and lust made for an empty feeling the next morning.
"You alive over there, Bronco?" Yuki's voice asked.
"Uuuuuuugh…" Jed groaned. It took him another minute to get a proper sentence formed.
"Ah mean yes...least Ah think. Yeah, gonna settle on "Ah think" for now, Curry."
"Sometimes thinkin' you feel good is good enough, I suppose."
His fellow aviator appeared above him and held up a bottle of water. Jed slowly lifted a hand and accepted it, then put the cold container to his head. She took a seat on the bed next to his and waited while he made an effort to piece himself back together. When he was finally able to move, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. The tee under that went as well; neither felt particularly comfortable right now. He took a drink of water to wet his tongue and cool down his insides; maybe he could go for another swim.
"So Bronco...you wanna tell me what happened to you last night that caused you to end up in this state?" Yuki asked.
"Ah'm trying to remember...how did Ah end up here?" He replied, easing himself up so he could take a drink.
"Brick and Glue saw you at the hotel bar, said you looked like a zombie when you left so after a while they made me aware of the matter and we went off to find you. We found you on the beach a few blocks away blubbering incoherently."
"Ah imagine Ah puked at some point?"
"Yeah, don't be embarrassed."
"Ah can't even remember doing it."
"Oh believe me the three of us witnessed it. If Glue gives you shit just mention margaritas at Yayo's and if Brick does, well, hopefully he's got enough self awareness. What with the time we had to bail him out and all."
"Margaritas at Yayo's, got it."
Jed turned away from the window and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Scant bits came back to him, but not enough to piece together anything before the beach. Crying sounded familiar, crying about what? He looked at the clock on a nearby nightstand. It was only a few days until Halloween...so Carissa, maybe? But he'd never gotten that despondent over her. Even when he'd run across Tsun-Tsun. Annie, Annie had something to do with it. Er, Tsun-Tsun he corrected himself. Why had he called her Annie at first?
"Mind's still a cloud. Maybe it was over a girl, maybe it was a case of me diving too deep into having fun and loosening up." He said, speaking slowly at times.
"You ever gotten this shitfaced before?"
"Ah refer to my earlier statement, Curry."
"Fair, fair...well I know I've never seen you in that state and I've seen you grow up from a baby Ensign to a baby Lieutenant Jay Gee."
"Did Ah say anything about where Ah was going? Like, before Brick and Glue caught me leaving the hotel bar."
"To me? No, but you must've told someone. Maybe Tsun-Tsun?"
"Maybe...Ah keep feeling like she has something to do with it. Like, maybe Ah told her or maybe Ah ran into her at some point in the night?"
Jed slowly stood up, then found himself drawn towards the bathroom. He stopped, then turned and looked back at Yuki.
"Can Ah go get a change of clothes? Ah wanna take a shower." He said.
"You feel good enough to?" She asked as she stood up. Jed nodded and took in a deep breath.
"Yeah, yeah Ah think Ah can function."
"Okay, and Bronco?"
"Yeah?"
"Whatever happened, and if you wanna talk about it, you got me Brick and Glue. Maybe even Tsun-Tsun, if she feels comfortable about it."
Jed smiled.
"Thanks Curry."
Jed lumbered off to his room, trying to piece together what'd happened the entire time. Warm water and some music helped him get a little clarity. His mind was still foggy, but he knew he'd been greatly upset. Even now he felt depressed, empty. Worn out above all, like he'd exerted all he had and fell flat. Drinking may have meant it was a girl? Someone who looked familiar? Family problems? It hadn't been Emilia, either. Jed groaned and pressed his face to his palms as he let water cascade down onto him. Emilia...he'd been walking along the beach. Ann-Lieutenant Chopra, he'd met Lieutenant Chopra or run into her or something. It had to do with his wingwoman, and their interactions from the previous night. The image of her formed in his head...in a white bikini. Jed's face turned pink and even the water couldn't stop his face from feeling hot. But...then why had he, or why was he feeling like shit? Something was very wrong, but he wasn't sure where to go for answers...
The sound of the klaxon sent the pilots and WSOs scrambling from their shelter to their F-72s. Sharky and Shamu watched from the sidelines as the four crews hurried to the jets and mounted up. Ground crew were already part way through final checks when they got there; each aircraft's weapons load was ready to go seconds after the pilots were aboard. They were taxiing out as their canopies came down, hurrying to the runway while two aircraft on standby right next to it were taking off. Sharky scrutinized each of the four aircraft as they went by, looking for signs of sloppy work. To his satisfaction there was none, so he turned his attention to the radio in the Land Rover. Shamu, meanwhile, was running a simulation on his computer that matched the exercise.
"First pair of aircraft airborne ninety seconds past alarm; follow up flight is reaching taxiway at two minutes." Sharky noted.
"Estimated time of the squadron getting all its aircraft up is another ten minutes." Shamu replied as he fed that info into the computer.
On the ground, security personnel ran to their stations, taking shoulder-launched SAMs with them. Sharky glanced at the nearest positions, then out into the distance. In search of the imaginary enemy that would be rushing in to attack. An effective one would go for the runways first; how they'd be cut was up for debate. Lay one big carpet of explosives along the length, or hit key points along it to avoid predictable approaches? The SoAF could do either, he imagined.
"We're approaching the four minute mark." He spoke up as he checked his watch again. The radio was giving them promising news.
"Wolf 2 this is Rana Tower, you're cleared for immediate departure Runway 38-L. Wind conditions are south-southwest at 2 kilometers per hour. All departing aircraft are advised to observe MITO procedures."
Sharky watched the fighters take off before the two motored off towards the squadron's primary hangar. A second Land Rover met them just outside the front doors. Wing Commander Joseph Natour, commander of No. 3 FS, put on a pair of mirror shades as he jumped from the back of his vehicle and nodded to the two men as he walked up.
"I got a total time of six minutes and forty-five seconds to get six aircraft off the ground." He announced as he held out a stopwatch.
"I got six minutes and forty-nine seconds." Sharky replied.
"Too small a difference to matter. Either way that was good, but I want to see if it's possible to get it down to six-thirty or less."
Sharky rubbed his chin in thought over the idea.
"Perhaps a better course of action would be to position more aircraft on standby near the runway. Reduce the guys who scramble to two while runway alert is up to four. The question is, Commander, can maintenance swing that?"
"They're gonna have to, Mister Sarkar. At least until Sotoa's chest thumping passes."
"You think it'll pass?"
"I'm PRAYING it'll pass."
Sharky grimaced and stared to the north again. Shamu joined the two, laptop in hand.
"Okay, so according to the simulation we deployed all but two aircraft in the set time frame. Initial attacks by defense suppression aircraft managed to knock out two of our Land Ceptors as well as the NASAMS site to the north. This was followed by a two-pronged attack. First, four Su-30s employing standoff munitions aimed for our runways and taxiways, which wrecked the Tiffies' part of the base and closed down two of our runways. Damaged a third but didn't knock it out. Second wave was Tejas Mk.2s armed with PGMs, who proceeded to destroy several hangers, one of the fuel depots, and the barracks." He explained.
"Their escorts?" Natour asked.
"Eight MiG-44s; we managed to destroy four and damage two more. Our losses were two aircraft and a third badly damaged."
The hawk-faced Chakari grimaced and followed Sharky's gaze.
"Okay, let's run the simulation again while we're waiting for the aircrews to return and land. We'll conduct another drill tomorrow...also, Mister Sarkar I'd like some further commentary from you regarding low-level attacks. That's my biggest concern."
"I'd be happy to, Commander."...
This was it.
Luukas and Krill walked down the steps into the bunker alongside fellow Captain Emil Devac (Yak) and Junior Lieutenant Riku Kaski (Faye) without a word. All four took their turns putting their ID cards to the scanner and entering a semi-circular room filled with chairs and desks. Luukas took a seat near the front and accepted a folder from an enlisted member of the squadron's intelligence department. He could easily guess some of its contents; he'd helped create them. Up front, Major Heinonen was watching over the room until the Colonel arrived to begin things. Luukas felt a tiny bit impatient and hoped that the man wasn't going to get caught up in dramatics. They had a timetable to keep.
Krill sat next to him, looking far less serious than him. Luukas kept his comments to himself; Krill's drive was what made him a good wingman. Things like the morality of killing and war were, to Luukas, best debated during peace. Arriving to waging war meant that peace had been maintained best as possible, but factors beyond one's reach had made peace impossible to maintain. The needs of the Empire and its people guide its morality He thought, recalling one of his teachings when he was in Officer's School.
"All present, attention!" Heinonen barked.
Colonel Mistros strode through the door and to the front of the room, then returned the salutes of his squadron.
"Gentlemen, tonight we bear the honor of showing the world the power of the Erusean Imperial Air Force, much how our grandfathers shocked the Usean Continent over forty years ago. In light of Osean and Lenish intransigence, we've received orders to assist the Republic of Sotoa in expelling foreign influence from the region." He began before his squarish face formed into a confident smile. One many of his subordinates shared.
"And we will crush the bastards."
The screen behind him came to life and presented a digitized map of Port Jubilee in Chakari., with emphasis placed on the defenses surrounding its harbor. The pilots opened their folders to see additional recon photos and information on the potential threats.
"Our role tonight will be to escort two flights of Strike Wyverns assigned to attack the Chakari Navy's headquarters as well as one of its primary naval flotillas there. We will have additional support from ER-211s and Sotoan Trishulas, who will attack the air defenses as highlighted on the map. These eight aircraft will come in on two headings; we'll be positioned to block attacks from the airport and guard their egress routes. Who will be flying and where they'll place themselves after we've established control of the airspace will appear in a second."
Luukas would be at the front of the attack, with Krill on his wing. He flipped to some of the threat intelligence; the nearby airport was home to two squadrons of Useafighter Typhoons. Older fighter, up to the E model, but nimble little bastards. They could also reach just a little further with their AMRAAMs than he could with his AP-13s. The escorts would be better off drawing fire with part of their number and sneaking close with the others. He let that be known as the squadron put final preparations in place.
"I will trust your judgement on this, Captain Miemi. Do I have any volunteers?" The Colonel spoke up.
He got hands almost immediately, Luukas included. Enough that he had to pick and go off of who was flying alongside who. Unlike Osean tactics, the group planned and executed as one form. Even if they were split up, they coordinated as one to meet the changes in the situation.
"Very well, then. Our AWACS, Jackal, will maintain position here and should be able to see everything in our AOR. At least one E-04 Fafnir will be off the coast guiding in aircraft from the carrier Farbanti. The escorts for that strike have the secondary mission of assisting us should the situation become dire. Anyone who causes things to reach the point that we must ask the Navy for help will be flogged after landing." Maestros added.
There was a quick round of chuckles, but everyone was too focused. There was a feeling that there was something else to be added, but there wasn't. The mission was straightforward, regardless of the bigger picture. Luukas quietly asked the fates to smile on him as much as the crown was. Mistros ended the briefing somewhat awkwardly, but it seemed fitting.
"Good luck, all of you."
Luukas, for one, felt it was the only thing that could be said.